


The Change that makes The Music

by bransch



Category: Angel: the Series, Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 90's Music, Caritas, F/M, Inspired by Angel: the Series, Karaoke, Magic, Smudging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-24 12:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15630549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bransch/pseuds/bransch
Summary: It’s 1998 and Emma Swan is living on borrowed time. Having never met the supernatural being who fathered her, she lives in limbo, waiting for her powers to manifest. To try and prepare for her future, she searches out her father. After nearly giving up, a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger renews her hope. Can this attractive man named Killian help her find what she seeks?





	The Change that makes The Music

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second story I’ve written for @cssns. This was originally inspired by this prompt: "Your mom admits to you that you have some… supernatural blood running through your veins. But she doesn’t remember what kind, cause she was kinda a hoe." This is set in L.A. in the Whedonverse, before the first season of Angel the series. The only main character that makes an appearance is Lorne. Wolfram & Hart won't be here, and despite the source material, this is a lighter-toned fic. Really, this is just me wanting to bring Lorne into a CS fic.
> 
> Title is from a quote, said by Lorne. I love Lorne. He was a gem of a character and Andy Hallett did an amazing job in that role. It’s so sad we lost him so young. I hope I do him justice here. The quote can be found here: https://branlovesouat.tumblr.com/post/175838604491/kyrumption-buffyverse-meme-35-quotes 
> 
> Thanks to @kmomof4 for being my beta here and to @wingedlioness for providing invaluable help when it came to song choice. And for making amazing art for this story! Check it out on my Tumblr!
> 
> One more note: This story is rated M only because there is some smut in the third act. You'll know when you get to it, if you would like to skip over it. You can jump right to part 4.

Emma never met her father, but she'd never imagined he was anything but normal. It wasn’t until she went to live with her cousin Ingrid, after her mother died, that she started to realize something might be amiss. **  
**

“Have you shown any symptoms?” Ingrid had asked before Emma was in her care for eight hours.

“Symptoms?” Emma asked curiously.

“You know… Powers.”

“Like… magic? That’s real?”

“Well, it might be magic. I’m not really sure.”

“You are just confusing me more and more. What are you talking about?”

“Well… I don’t know the particulars, but your mother had a penchant for hanging around… supernatural beings. I’m pretty sure your father was a vampire.”

“What? Really?!”

“Maybe… Or a werewolf. She had a fling with one.”

“Okay, this is a lot to take in. So, I’m either half vampire or half werewolf?”

“Or… some kind of demon… your mom got around.”

 

* * *

 

**I. The Meeting**

Emma skulked out of the nightclub after another busted lead. She was beginning to think of giving up on this whole quest of hers. She was 28 and still hadn’t shown any actual powers. Even if her father was… gifted in some way, maybe it hadn’t passed on to Emma.

So lost in thought was she that she didn’t notice the stranger coming up on her left until it was too late. Later she would chastise herself for being so unobservant. But in the moment all she felt was terror. This was not just some would-be mugger. This was one of the supernatural creatures she’d been naively seeking out. His forehead protruded out to meet the bridge of his nose, looming over his malicious, pale yellow eyes. His lips curled up in a menacing sneer, revealing sharp, animalistic fangs. For the first time since she started this quest, Emma was actually face-to-face with a vampire, and she felt so stupid for seeking them out the way she had.

“Where you going sweetheart?” he asked, as if he were just a random harasser, as opposed to the hunter he actually was.

Despite the fear she felt, and knew he could smell, her survival instincts kicked in. “Away from you,” she replied with more bravado than she felt.

He laughed, a nasty, feral sound. “You can drop the act, honey. We both know how this is going to end.”

As he lunged toward her, Emma turned and ran at her top speed, but it was no use. He was a vampire with supernatural reflexes at his disposal. It was embarrassing how quickly he caught her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into his chest. He used one hand to grip the top of her head and push it to the side, exposing her neck before he leaned down and sunk his fangs into her skin.

Her body seized up in response. Emma was no stranger to sexual acts, but the intimacy of having a vampire drink her blood was an entirely new sensation. It was a violation in every sense of the word. This stranger held her in a more familiar embrace than she’d allowed from anyone else in a very long time. As he drank from her, she saw visions of his life, and she knew he was seeing visions of her own. This attacker was not only intruding into her bodily autonomy, he was seeing into her mind. It was disgusting. What a degrading way to go.

He’d only been drinking for a few seconds, but to her it felt like a lifetime. Then, all of a sudden, it was over.

His hold on her body released abruptly, and she felt the fangs disappear from the open wound without first withdrawing. She heard a primal scream and felt a burst of heat. Her eyes flew open and she stumbled forward. Her strength was sapped more than she realized and she lost her footing, tumbling to the ground.

“Careful, love,” came a soothing voice. A pair of strong arms reached out and caught under her armpits, hauling her up. She stood on shaky feet and looked up at her rescuer.

The first thing she saw were his eyes. A vibrant blue, framed by impossibly long lashes. Those eyes were accompanied by sculpted eyebrows and sharp cheekbones. The handsome face also featured soft lips and dark facial hair peppering his cheeks and jaw. He tightened his hold on her as he met her gaze. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

“Who are you?” Emma asked.

He flashed her an incredibly charming smile. “Killian Jones, at your service.”

* * *

 

Killian stared at the beautiful lass currently occupying his bed. Her golden hair fanned out over the pillow and her rosy lips pursed as she slept. Her creamy, porcelain skin looked so delicate, if a little too pale due to recent events. He didn't think she'd lost enough blood to need a transfusion, but her strength had certainly been depleted. She'd slept for a while now, and if she didn't awaken soon, he would need to rouse her in order to get some fluids and nutrients back into her body.

He watched her for a little longer, and just when he'd resolved to pull her from her slumber, her lips parted and she took a deep, open-mouthed breath before bolting upright. Her hand flew to the bandage on her neck where Killian had tended her wound. Her eyes were still closed, and she finally opened them to take in her surroundings.

He knew his apartment was nothing special. Even though he was a competent warlock with a successful business, the Los Angeles real estate market was a tough one. Prices were always high, and accommodations frequently did not meet expectations. Killian tried to do what he could to dress up his abode, and he saw her eyes now taking in his personal touches. She looked at the bookshelves where he kept his ever growing library. She observed his nautical decor, including the custom pirate flag his younger brother had gifted him last Christmas. And she no doubt saw his container garden overflowing on the fire escape.

“Where am I?” she asked when she finally spoke.

“You're safe, love. I'll not harm you.”

“Not your love,” she grumbled. “I assume this is your place?”

“Aye, that it is.”

She eyed him skeptically for a moment. “Did you stake that vampire?”

“I did.”

“Are you some sort of vampire hunter?”

Killian chuckled. “Uh… no. I don't make a habit of seeking out vampires, but I am always armed against them when I am near areas where they like to congregate. Why were you there, lass?”

“For reasons… that are my own and that I don't need to explain to you. Why were  _you_  there?”

“Meeting a client who happens to be of the fanged persuasion.”

“Really? And what kind of business are you in where vampires are your clients?”

He raised an eyebrow as he stared at her. “You're going to press me for details after you've been so closed-lipped?”

“Fine,” she said as she heaved a sigh. “I'm a PI and I was hunting down a lead in a case that led me to that club.” She paused and looked away. “It didn't pan out.”

“I appreciate your honesty, lo- er… lass.” He looked over at his garden. “I procure magical items on a commission basis. I was delivering one such item.”

“What kind of magical item?”

“Ah, now that I cannot share. It would be a violation of my client's privacy.”

She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “So… you're some kind of magical antiques dealer?”

“Among other things.”

“What kind of other things?”

He wasn't sure why he kept talking. He still didn't even know this woman's name. But something about her made him want to open up like he hadn't since… He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Oh, you know… potions, amulets, charms, protective wards.”

“What are you? Some kind of witch?”

He gave her a disdainful stare. “I prefer warlock.”

“Right. Warlock.”

“Now that you know so much about me and my profession, might I have your name?”

“Oh. Um… it’s Emma. Emma Swan.”

“Lovely to make your acquaintance, Swan.” He picked up her hand, which had been resting on her knee and brought it to his lips, leaving a gentle kiss there. He kept his grip on her fingers, his lips a hair’s breadth away as he shifted his eyes to meet hers. She stared at him, dumbfounded, with her luscious lips slightly parted, before she slowly withdrew her hand from his grasp.

 

* * *

 

“Did you put some kind of a spell on me, or something?” Emma asked, her voice nearly a whisper.

His face twisted in disgust. “Of course not! I am a gentleman and would never enchant someone without their consent. Not only is that a gross violation of a person’s autonomy, it would be bad for my business if I gained a reputation as someone my clients couldn’t trust.”

Her internal lie detector found nothing but the truth in his impassioned speech. So why did Emma feel such a strong pull to this man? She’d barely known him for an hour, but all she wanted to do was pounce on him and have her wicked way with him. She thought she had more self-restraint against attractive men. Maybe the vampire had drained her of more blood than she’d realized.

Remembering  _why_  she was here brought her back to the present moment. Her eyes flickered back to his. “Thank you, by the way, for saving me from that vampire.”

He inclined his head. “I am only glad I was able to be there to rescue you. We should get you some water and something to eat.”

He stood and walked over to the small eat-in kitchen of his efficiency apartment. She heard him open and close the refrigerator, turn on the stove, and fill a pot with water before returning to her with a cold bottle of water. “Drink this, Swan. I’m not sure how much of your blood that vampire drank before I staked him. We need to replenish your fluids. I’m heating you up some soup as well.”

She accepted the bottle of water and he returned to the kitchenette. She couldn’t stop herself from staring at his ass as he walked away. Spell or no spell, he’d enchanted her. She opened the bottle and drained the contents, not realizing just how thirsty she was. Once she was hydrated, her head felt clearer and she slid off the bed to stand on slightly shaky legs. She regained her balance and made the few short steps to the kitchen before placing the empty bottle on the counter.

“This place got a bathroom?” She asked, and immediately berated herself. Of course it had a bathroom.

He didn’t seem to take issue with her faux pas and instead pointed to the door that contained his restroom. Emma made quick use of the facilities and splashed her face with some cold water after she washed her hands. She exited and made her way over to the counter that served as a divider between the kitchen and the rest of the space, leaning against it as she took another moment to admire his figure.

“I can feel you staring at me, love,” he said, not turning away as he took a jar full of what looked like dried soup mix from a cabinet. He added a few large spoonfuls of the mixture into the pot of now boiling water and stirred it before turning to look at her. In the 30 seconds between when he’d spoken and when he turned, Emma’s face flushed a bright red. She knew he noticed it as he smirked in her direction.

“Your soup should be ready in a moment,” he said as he wiped his hands with a dishcloth. “Now will you tell me why you were deliberately seeking out vampires at that club?”

“I told you,” she said, “It was for a case.”

“Aye, that you did. But what case? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t believe supernatural cases are your usual fare, are they?”

“No,” she replied, hanging her head. “I normally stalk cheating spouses and get pictures to support divorce cases.”

“So what case are you working now? Perhaps I can help, seeing as how I have more experience with this sort.”

“Mine,” Emma replied in a near-whisper.

“Yours?”

“My… case. I’m trying to find my father.”

“Was he recently turned into a vampire?”

“Not recently… no.” She rolled her head back and sighed before meeting his eyes once more. “My mother died when I was young. I don’t know much about my father, other than, according to my cousin, he was some kind of supernatural being. I’ve been retracing my mom’s steps in the year before I was born, and she went to that club a fair number of times. I was hoping someone may know something about who my father was.”

“When was she in attendance at this club?”

“1969.”

“Then it’s highly unlikely that any vampires would know about her. They didn’t start occupying that part of town until 15 years ago. And despite popular legend, vampires aren’t exactly known for their longevity. There’s not much chance that a vampire who interacted with your mother would still be alive, for lack of a better word, today.”

“I knew it was a long shot, but that club was the first break I’ve had in this case since I came to LA. I think I got so excited that I became reckless.”

“Understandable.” He stirred the soup once more then turn off the burner, ladling a heaping amount into a bowl and setting it in front of Emma. It smelled incredible.

“Where’d you get this soup mix? I’ve never seen dried mix make such an amazing looking stew before.”

“Thank you, lass. It’s a creation of my own design. The secret is the herbs.” He nodded toward the container garden.

Emma smiled and tucked into the bowl, devouring it in mere minutes. Killian laughed and refilled the bowl and handed her another bottle of water. After she’d eaten her fill, Emma felt much more like herself again.

 

* * *

 

As she finished her soup, Emma looked back at his herb garden. “So, you use those for cooking? I thought they'd be for spells or potions, or… something.”

“They have many uses. Cooking of course, and medicinal properties, and also more mystical applications.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. Magic is all about connecting to nature. Herbs have mystical energy in them and the differing properties can also aid innumerable spells.”

She cradled her chin in her hands and pinned him with her emerald green gaze. “Like what?”

“Sage is an excellent herb for cleansing a dwelling. It's used a lot in popular media as a ‘hippie practice,’ but burning sage is quite effective in neutralizing bad energy in a home.”

“Yeah… you're losing me,” Emma replied with a smirk.

“It's called smudging and it's a practice that dates back centuries.” He tilted his head and gazed at her. “In fact, I think it may be helpful for you.”

She shook her head. “Oh, no thank you. I'm quite happy with my negative energy as it is.”

“I wasn't thinking about sage in this particular case. Rosemary, actually.”

“What would that do?”

“Rosemary is good for memory spells. If I make a few smudge sticks with rosemary and burn them while guiding you through a meditation, we might be able to uncover some memories stored deep inside you.”

“I don't think that would work. I’ve never actually met my father, so I won't have any memories of him.”

“But perhaps there is something your mother said to you as a babe that might aid your search.”

“Do you really think that could work?”

“The human mind is a powerful thing with an enormous amount of untapped potential. And worst case you'll have only have lost a little of your time.” He smiled at her and cocked an eyebrow. “What do you say, Swan? Want to give it a go?”

“What the hell,” she replied.

* * *

 

**II. The Memory**

Killian sent Emma home and told her to meet him the next day at a house his friend owned. Despite her natural inclination to mistrust others, Emma found herself parking outside of a stately old house the next day. Killian came out the front door and met her on the curved driveway.

“Swan! You came!”

“I did,” she replied. “I'm still not sure why we couldn't do this last night.”

“I needed to prepare everything. And smudging is most effective outdoors during the day. Come, this place has lovely gardens. Perfect for our needs.”

“Are you sure the owner is okay with us being here?”

“She is. She's not here today, but I called her this morning and she gave me clearance.”

He kept talking as he led her through the main part of the house, an enormous mansion dating back to the 1920’s. Once they stepped out into the gardens, Emma's breath caught in her throat. She was standing in a lush green paradise with bubbling fountains, thick grass, and an amazing view of the city.

“This is gorgeous,” she said as she admired the view.

“It is, isn't it?” Killian stood next to her and let the gentle breeze kiss his cheek. He paused a moment longer before grabbing her hand and leading her through a canopy of artfully overgrown vines. They exited into a clearing amongst a thicket of trees, where a simple concrete bench sat. Next to the bench was a basket of supplies including what looked like two giant joints.

“What herbs are we burning, exactly?” She eyed the basket closely as she asked.

Killian smiled and bent down to lift the basket. He picked up what she now saw was a bundle of dried kitchen herbs tied with twine. “Sage, of course, and also some rosemary and lemongrass. This will help center and focus you while I recite the spell and guide your meditation.”

“Alright.” Emma stepped her feet wide and held her arms out, parallel to the earth. She tilted her head back and looked up into the canopy of trees. “ Let's do this.”

“Not so fast, Swan. We must prepare first.” She lifted her head and eyed him skeptically, but he continued. “Take off your shoes. We should be rooted to the earth.” He kicked off his own shoes as he said this.

“Really?” Emma whined.

“Yes, Swan. Do you want this to work?”

She rolled her eyes, but bent over to unzip and remove her knee-high boots. She also took her socks off, and was surprisingly pleased by the sensation of cool grass under her feet, despite her inclination to the contrary.

Killian instructed her to sit on the bench and close her eyes. She couldn’t resist curling her toes in the grass as she relaxed on the bench. She’d always been very resistant to all this new-age stuff, but she had to admit that it had some high points. She heard a lighter click and Killian blowing, she assumed to get the herbs smouldering. She knew the instant he’d succeeded, as her nostrils were suddenly filled with the pleasing aromas. The sage was strongest, the fragrance reminding her of a strong tea. Soon after she was hit with the piney scent that must have come from the rosemary. And the profile was rounded out by the slightly citrusy notes of the lemongrass.

Taken in together, the scents were amazing and added to the experience. Emma felt herself relaxing even more as she kept her eyes closed and breathed in the fragrant smoke. She heard Killian pick up something from the basket, a soft clink making her think it was the clay bowl she’d seen lying there. She heard him approach.

“I’m going to pass this over your entire body, and then return to your head.” The rich tones of his voice further enhanced the experience. “We want to awaken memories, so I’m going to concentrate the smoke there. After I’ve passed it over, I’m going to recite an incantation before I begin to walk you through a guided visualization. Just continue exactly as you are. You’re doing wonderful, Emma.”

She felt a flush of warmth at his praise and bit her cheek to stop the smile that she felt coming on. She still knew next to nothing about this man, and she was alone with him, barefoot, in the private gardens of some fancy estate in the hills.

“Stop those thoughts right now. They are making you tense up. You need to be relaxed for this to work.”

“You can read my thoughts?” Emma asked, opening her eyes and cutting her head sharply to the left to look at him.

“I don’t need to,” Killian replied. “Your body language said everything.” He lowered his chin and met her gaze with his own. “I promise you, Emma, no harm will come to you here.”

After another moment of uncertainty, Emma opted to listen to her gut, which was telling her that she had nothing to fear from Killian. She turned her head to face forward once more and closed her eyes. She felt him move and continue to waft the smoke around her.

After saying some words in Latin, or some other ancient language, he began to speak with her in a hushed tone, his husky voice sending an involuntary chill down her spine.

“I want you to focus, Emma. Think about your mother. Picture her face. Recall her smell. The sound of her voice. Remember being a small child, nestled in her embrace. Feel her lips kiss your forehead.”

Emma experienced all these things at once, feeling enveloped by her mother’s warm essence. She remember playing with the long, dark brown hair her mother had when Emma was very young, before she cut it all off to start a new job as a teacher. Emma recalled being sad when that happened. She’d always thought her mother was so beautiful, like a princess, but princesses didn’t have short hair.

Suddenly she was seized with a vivid memory of her mother, Mary Margaret, talking with a friend Emma vaguely remembered was named Ruby. Their voices sounded distorted, like she was hearing them underwater, but she could clearly make out what they were saying.

_“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Ruby had asked, patting Mary Margaret on the shoulder as the young mother tried to calm her sobbing toddler._

_“Emma’s right…” Mary Margaret choked out through her tears. “Princesses don’t have short hair. David always loved my long hair. I would call him Prince Charming and he would spin me and bury his face in my hair and call me his beautiful princess. Now I’m not a princess anymore.”_

_“You listen to me,” Ruby said. “David Nolan left you. He. Left. You. He doesn’t get to have an opinion on your hair. Neither does Emma, much as I love her. The pixie cut suits you. Not many people can pull it off, but you can. You look amazing. Emma is just having a hard time adjusting to change, as many toddlers do. You’ll be fine.”_

Emma felt herself being pulled back from the memory and returning to the garden. She heard Killian’s feet softly padding through the grass. She smelled the strong aromas of the burning herbs. And she felt the cold concrete of the bench beneath her fingers. She slowly opened her eyes, and found tears had pooled at the corners and were now trailing down her cheeks.

“Swan?” Killian asked, extinguishing the nearly depleted herb bundle in a cup of water. “Did you see anything?”

“Yes,” Emma sniffed as she slowly wiped her tears. “She was there. I felt her. I miss her so much.” She couldn’t stop herself as she broke down into deep sobs. Killian sat next to her on the bench and wrapped his arms around her shoulder, pulling her into his broad chest.

Emma allowed herself a minute of grief before pulling herself together. “Thank you, Killian,” she said as she straightened her torso.

“Did you recall anything helpful?”

“Two things, actually. The memory was of a conversation my mother had with a friend of hers. A friend I’d forgotten about: Ruby Lucas. I bet Ruby could help my search. And second, in the conversation, Ruby said my father’s name.”

“And? What is it?”

“David Nolan,” Emma replied, a small smile of victory curving at the corners of her mouth.

Killian stood. “Well, let me clean up here and then we can talk about our next steps.”

“ _Our_  next steps?” Emma looked up at him with a furrowed brow.

“Indeed, Swan. I am not leaving you now. I’m invested and need to see this case through to the end. Besides,” he said with a raised eyebrow, “you never know when my special talents may come in handy.”

Emma smirked at him and stood from the bench. “Fine. But you let me lead. After all, I’m the PI here.”

 

* * *

 

A week had passed since the smudging ritual, and Killian hadn’t heard from Emma. He was beginning to think that, despite her assurances to the contrary, Emma still didn’t trust him and had decided to move on. So he was pleasantly surprised to receive a call from her one day when he was pruning his herbs.

 _“Killian,”_ she said,  _“I found her!”_

“Her? I thought we were looking for your father?”

_“We are, but I found my mom’s friend, Ruby Lucas. She works at a diner. Can you meet me there in an hour?”_

“Of course! Give me the address.”

After hanging up his phone, Killian dashed to the bathroom to clean up before heading to meet Swan. He had no illusions about the motivation for his action. He’d become quite taken with Emma.

An hour later, he stepped into the diner and looked around for Emma. He didn’t see her at first, until a flash of gold caught his eye. He saw her beautiful hair, soft and silken, and his fingers itched to touch it. Composing himself, he walked over to her booth.

“Pardon me, Miss,” he said with a slight grin. “Is this seat taken?”

Emma looked up at him with a smirk. “Sit down, Jones.” He did as she instructed. “I’ve ordered you some coffee.” She pointed to a still steaming cup in front of him. She herself had a cup of what appeared to be hot chocolate, the whipped cream on top, which was slowly melting and mixing in to create a frothy concoction. He looked closer and saw that the whipped cream was dotted with small, dark red flecks of cinnamon.

No sooner had he taken a seat and a sip of his coffee, that they were approached by an attractive young woman with long brown hair, a tall, lithe figure, and striking hazel green eyes. She handed Killian a menu. “Take a look and I’ll be back in a few minutes to take your order,” she said, obviously repeating a line she frequently used during her work day.

“Ruby? Ruby Lucas?” Emma said, which caused Killian to do a double take. Surely this couldn’t be the same woman who was friends with Emma’s mother. She didn’t look a day over 30.

“Who’s asking?” Ruby replied, hands on her hips.

“Mary Margaret Blanchard’s daughter.”

Ruby’s face immediately softened. “Emma?”

“Yeah,” Emma said with a wary look. “Though I want to know what kind of a demon you are, because you don't look a day older than the last time I saw you. When I was _three_.”

“I can explain,” Ruby said. “Just not here.” She motioned her head toward the back of the diner. “Come with me.”

Both Emma and Killian stood. Ruby balked at Killian’s presence. “I don’t need the whole of Los Angeles hearing this. Emma only.”

“He’s my friend, and we’re in this together,” Emma replied, giving Ruby a stern look.

Ruby wavered for a moment before giving in. “Fine. This way.” She turned and led them through the diner and into a hallway with yellow paneled walls.

 

* * *

 

Once they are alone, Ruby gathered Emma into her arms and hugged her tight. “I am so glad you found me. I never thought I'd see you again. I tried looking for you after your mom died, but I couldn't find you. Emma Blanchard disappeared.”

“I changed my name. It's Emma Swan. I ended up with my cousin Ingrid. I was only on my own for two years.”

“Small blessing, though even that was two years too long. How are you my dear?”

“I get by,” she replied, nervously looking at Killian. “But you promised to explain why you're still so young.”

“I'm a werewolf. I age slower than humans. I actually do look about ten years older than the last time you saw me. But I am flattered that you don't notice that.”

“A werewolf?” Emma gaped at the other woman.

“It's a long story. Happened a few years after I lost touch with your mom.”

Emma shook her head in a vain attempt to clear her thoughts. “Right… so the reason I came to see you… I need to find my father.”

“ Your father? David?”

“Yes, do you know where he is?”

“Um… I never met him. Why are you trying to find him?”

Emma groaned in frustration. “Ingrid told me he had some kind of supernatural powers. I need to know if he passed them on to me. I've been living my life in limbo, waiting for them to manifest. I need to know what I'm expecting.”

“I'm sorry sweetie… I can't help you find him. But,” Ruby paused and tilted her head, “I think I know someone who can.”

A spark of hope lit in Emma's chest. “Who?”

“There's this club that is a haven for demons and creatures of the Underworld. The Host can read your future if you sing for him. If you go there, he can tell you what your powers are and when you might begin to experience them.”

“What this place called?”

“Caritas.”

 

* * *

 

**III. The Music**

Killian Jones was a warlock. In Los Angeles. He'd seen some interesting sights in his time, but still nothing had prepared him for Caritas.

The club itself was nothing extraordinary. A smaller space with a bar, tables, and a small stage. The lighting was brighter than he'd seen in similar establishments and served to highlight the one element that truly made the club stand out: it's clientele.

Creatures of all manner occupied the space. There was a demon with blue, scaly skin wearing a three-piece suit. And a furry humanoid with horns drinking a martini. And a hulking specimen with red tinged skin and a chest plate that looked like a giant crab shell, crying into a bowl of peanuts while signaling the bartender for another drink.

But all these sights paled in comparison to the tall, green-skinned man with red horns and even brighter red eyes, wearing a flashy yellow suit and approaching them on their left. “Oh, what a delightful little strumpet I see before me! And the blonde one's cute too! Welcome to Caritas. I'm Lorne, The Host. How can I help you two adorable humans this evening?”

“Um…” Emma began, “someone told us you can read my future if I sing for you?”

“Indeed I can, but I don't need to read you to know you have an exciting life ahead with this gorgeous specimen at your side.” He gave her a wink and held up his glass in a toast before taking a sip. “Delicious,” he hummed as he set his drink down on the bar. “If you're thirsty, may I recommend the Sea Breeze? Rico makes a delightful one.”

He turned to walk away, but Emma stopped him. “I'm not here to ask you about my love life. I hardly know this guy. I don't think there's a future with him.”

“Oh honey,” Lorne began, but Emma cut him off.

“My name is Emma Swan, and I need to know if I am ever going to have any powers.”

“Powers?” The green man looked genuinely distressed at Emma's tone.

“I never knew my father, but my cousin says he was some kind of supernatural being. I’ve lived my whole life in fear of what I might become. I need you to read me so I can be prepared.”

“And the plot thickens!” Lorne took Emma by the arm and led them to a small table. “Go and sign up for a song, doll, and I'll get you two kids some drinks.” He turned to her companion. “And you are?”

“Killian Jones, at your service,” Killian said as he bowed gracefully.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Lorne said in response. He took the other man’s hand and shook briefly before releasing it and looking at him with a smirk. “What’ll you have, Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome Jones?”

“Rum, straight,” Killian said as he removed his jacket and placed it on the back of his chair.

“Will you look at those biceps…” Lorne sighed. “If only you weren't head over heels for blondie over there.”

Killian smirked. “I could ask if she'd be willing to share,” he said with a wink.

“Oh you tease… Sit your pretty little ass right there. I'll be right back with your drinks.”

Emma returned before Lorne and took the seat opposite Killian.

“Which song did you pick?” he asked, working hard to maintain an air of nonchalance.

“Um…” Emma waffled, seemingly reluctant to respond.

“Come now Swan, it can’t be that bad.”

“What’s up.”

“Pardon?”

“My song. I’m singing ‘What’s Up’ by 4 Non Blondes.”

“That’s an interesting choice.”

“It was the first song I came across that I could picture myself singing while still maintaining a shred of dignity.”

“Don’t mistake me, love. I don’t judge. The more I think on it, the more I like the choice. I think it suits you nicely.”

Lorne returned to their table, placing two glasses of rum down and then dragging a chair from another table nearby to sit with them. He was followed quickly after by the bartender, who placed a glass containing a pink concoction in front of him.

“Rico, darling, you truly have my undying devotion.”

The bartender smirked before leaving. Lorne turned back to his guests.

“Now tell me, cupcake, what has got you so worried about these potential demon powers?”

Emma pantomimed a fish, opening and closing her mouth several times before replying. “It’s just… the unknown. I don’t know how they will affect me. I can’t move on with my life until I have an answer.”

“And once you have that answer, what will you do?”

“Be normal. Or least prepare for what’s to come. I can’t really answer that until I know what’s coming next, can I?”

“Well, you’re up next, sweetheart, so you’ll have your answer soon enough. And I really hope you can carry a tune, because Walter up there cannot, bless his soul.” Lorne stood, leaving his drink, and walked toward the stage, where the current occupant, an older looking demon with pale, droopy skin and blank white eyes, struggled through the remainder of his song. The moment he wrapped up, he was ushered off by Lorne. After saying a a few words of introduction, Lorne called Emma to the stage.

Emma approached and stood under the spotlight, visibly uncomfortable as the intro to her song began playing. She was off a beat when the lyrics began, and though her voice was pleasant, there was no heart in her singing. However, as the song continued, she became more relaxed. When the song reached the first bridge, she closed her eyes and began to sway slightly.

 

> _And so I cry sometimes_
> 
> _When I'm lying in bed just to get it all out_
> 
> _What's in my head_
> 
> _And I, I am feeling, a little peculiar_
> 
> _And so I wake in the morning_
> 
> _And I step outside_
> 
> _And I take a deep breath and I get real high_
> 
> _And I scream from the top of my lungs_
> 
> _What's going on?_

By the time she reached the chorus, she was fully immersed in the experience. The audience responded well and sang “hey yeah yeah, hey yeah yeah” right along with her. Killian felt his ever present attraction to Emma increase as he watched her lose herself in the experience.

“Boy, she has got some pipes, doesn’t she?”

Killian had failed to notice when Lorne returned to their table, and the sound of the green man’s voice made him jump. Feeling uneasy, he merely nodded slightly before returning his gaze to the stage.

By the final chorus, Emma had a hand in the air, swaying along with her body. She held out the microphone to the audience as they sang along. She was a natural. When she exited the stage, it was to a round of boisterous applause and even a few calls for an encore. She returned to the table, her cheeks flushed a lovely pink shade. Killian felt his own face flush in response.

“Bravo, my dear,” Lorne said as she took her seat. “We don’t normally get performances of that caliber in here. Thank you for the treat.”

“I’m surprised to find that I actually enjoyed that.”

“Good for you.” Lorne crossed his legs as he leaned back in his chair and took a sip from his drink.

Emma looked at him expectantly. After a beat, she said “So…”

“Oh, right.” Lorne sat up and rested his forearms on the table. “I didn’t see any powers in your future.”

“What?” Emma asked, and, despite her insistence that she was afraid of what her future may hold, she looked genuinely crushed at this revelation.

“You’re not part demon. You are one-hundred percent human.”

“Really?”

“Swan… surely that’s good news, right?” Killian asked, placing a hand tentatively over hers.

“Good news. Yeah… right.” She stared into her glass of rum for a moment before picking it up and downing it in one gulp. Placing the glass firmly on the table, she stood up. “I gotta go. Killian, I’ll call you later.” She turned and walked out of the club before he could say anything in reply.

Killian stood to follow her, before remembering their drinks. He grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket and went to pull out some cash.

“No need, loverboy,” Lorne said, holding out a hand. “On the house. Go get your girl.”

“Thank you,” Killian replied, before grabbing his jacket and running after Emma.

 

* * *

 

Emma stood outside the club, one hand held out to hail a cab while the other was firmly gripped on a small can of mace in her jacket pocket. She was not going to be caught unaware outside of a demon establishment again. She heard quickened footsteps behind her and tensed her body, ready to strike.

“Swan! Thank God you’re still here.” At the sound of Killian’s voice, she released the grip on her mace, but her posture remained tense.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Killian,” she replied without looking at him.

“We don’t have to talk, but you shouldn’t be alone. That was a big revelation. I want to help you work through it any way I can.”

“What’s there to work through?!” Emma’s patience finally snapped. Her raised hand fell. “I thought there was something special… or… unique about me, but I was wrong. There’s nothing special about me. One-hundred percent human. Joy…”

“Are you upset about being completely human? Isn’t it a relief to know you won’t have any unwanted abilities popping up?”

“Yes! No… I don’t know. All I know is I’ve wasted half my life living in fear of something that was never going to happen! I have wasted my existence on this. I’m not anyone special.”

Killian dared to take a step closer to her. “You know that isn’t true, love. Just because you don’t have supernatural lineage does not mean you aren’t special.”

Emma felt compelled to look at him, meeting his earnest blue gaze with her own. “What’s so special about me?”

“You are an intelligent, resourceful, strong, beautiful woman.” His voice was husky as he moved even closer, leaving very little distance between them.

“You really believe that?”

“I do.” He held her gaze for a beat longer before grabbing her arm loosely and pulling her body into his until their lips crashed together. Emma quickly lost herself to the kiss, reveling in the contrast between the rough feel of Killian’s facial hair and the softness of his lips as they caressed her own. His head tilted to deepen the kiss, and he raised his hand to tangle in her hair. Emma mimicked him, running her fingers through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss was short, but passionate, and she found herself chasing his lips for more as he pulled away.

“Perhaps we should relocate to somewhere more private?” He whispered, his mouth still less than an inch from her own.

“Great idea,” she said, biting her lip in anticipation.

Without letting go of her, Killian lifted his arm. Almost instantly a taxi appeared.

“Seriously?!” Emma cried out in indignation as she pulled away and looked at the cab. “Are all cab drivers in this city really so sexist?”

“I have a transportation enchantment, love,” he said as he held out one of the charms on his necklace. “I can gladly make you one.”

“Okay yeah. No matter what happens with us, I’m getting that from you.”

 

* * *

 

The entirety of the cab ride to his apartment was spent building anticipation. Emma shied away from overt displays of affection, but allowed surreptitious touches. They sat close, huddled against the seat behind the driver as to be as out of sight as possible. Killian softly trailed his fingers over her breasts, enjoying the feel of her nipples as they stiffened under his touch, while Emma struggled to hold in her moans.

The minute they walked through his door, she turned the tables. Showing a surprising amount of strength, she shoved Killian against the back of the door and attacked his mouth with her own. These kisses were frenzied, teeth and lips and tongues clashing while hands roamed each other's bodies. When breathing became an issue, Emma moved to his neck, scraping her teeth along the skin before trailing up and capturing his earlobe between her teeth. She bit down just hard enough to heighten his pleasure.

Killian was swimming in pleasure and allowed himself a moment longer to enjoy her ministrations before exerting his own strength and reversing their position, pressing her up against the door. “As pleasurable as that was, I must insist on taking the lead here.”

“Oh yeah?” Emma taunted. “You gonna prove to me that you're not just all talk?”

He let out a low growl before grinding his hips into hers, his rigid length rubbing against the seam of her pants. “Do that feel like talk to you, Swan?”

“I don't know,” she replied. “I think I need a closer inspection.”

She pushed forward and spun him with the speed to match her show of strength from earlier, and Killian foresaw an evening ahead where they constantly battled for control. Emma had the upper hand at the moment, sinking to her knees, undoing his belt and lowering his pants as she went. “Love, you don't--” he began, but his speech was cut short when she licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock.

“Mmm… yes I think this will work nicely.” She licked a few more times, her mouth pure heaven, but always keeping the contact light and teasing. After giving him a few pumps with her hand for good measure, she stood and stepped back, taking him in. He was sure he was quite a sight, hair mussed, kiss-swollen lips, and his dick hanging out of his pants. She bit her lip. “Strip and get on the bed. I want to ride you.”

Killian felt himself get harder at her words, but he was not ready to cede control to her just yet. “I will,” he said, pushing off from the door and leaning down to whisper to her “but only if you ride my face.” She visibly blushed, and he silently chuckled to himself as he walked past her, removing the rest of his clothes and laying on the bed.

Emma shed her jacket, boots, and pants before she stood at the foot of the bed in just her tank top, bra, and panties. “Take the rest of that off and get over here,” he said. “I don't want to wait any longer to taste you.”

She complied and climbed on the bed, crawling on her hands and knees until they were face to face. He lifted his head and kissed her as hard as he could while his hand shot down to cup her sex. His fingers dipped into her entrance and began to spread her juices, toying with her clit. “So fucking wet. Come on love, let me make you come. I want to feel your thighs squeezing my head while you scream out my name.”

She smirked and rose up to sit back on her heels. Placing a hand on his thigh, she lifted a leg and straddled his torso-- backwards. She shimmied up until her dripping cunt hovered over his face. Killian wrapped a hand around her thigh and pulled her down to his mouth, plunging his tongue into her tight sheath and making Emma shudder and moan. Enjoying her reaction, he responded by sucking her clit into his mouth and plunging two fingers deep inside her. Her hips wiggled and she ground down on his face. He kept fucking her with his tongue and fingers, reveling in her delicious moans.

He could feel her getting close, her walls tightening around his digits. His grip tightened on her thigh, silently encouraging her to take what she needed. She kept grinding down until the dam burst and she cried out. “Killian! Oh fuck!” He kept going, albeit at a slower pace, until she called out “Stop! Stop! It's too much!”

She rose up on her knees slightly, and he took a few heaping gulps of air, but his breath caught in his throat when she leaned forward and took his cock into her mouth. She bobbed up and down while encircling the base with her hand and pumping along with the rhythm of her mouth. It felt incredible, but this was not how he wanted their first time to end.

“Love. Emma. Stop. Stop. I need to be inside you. Please!”

She released him with a pop and slid down his body, turning around until they were face to face once more. Killian sat up suddenly and moved her so that she was now the one on her back. He leaned over to his bedside table and removed a condom before quickly sheathing himself. He straddled her and leaned down, kissing her hard.

“Are you ready for me?”

“Stop talking and fuck me already, Jones!”

“Oh Emma. You and I both know that this is more than fucking.” He didn't give her a chance to respond before he slid in and filled her to the brim. They both moaned loudly at the contact. He started rocking into her as he continued. “You and I, we're connected. This is not just sex.”

Emma looked at him with glassy eyes. “Please… I don't want to talk about this. Not now.”

He paused, still inside her as he looked down. “The last thing I would ever do is hurt you, Emma. But I want more than just a one night stand with you. I want you to stay the night. And have breakfast with me in the morning. And go on a date with me next weekend. I want to be in your life and have you in mine. Do you want that too?”

She nodded and a few tears escaped, sliding down her cheeks.  “I'm scared.”

“I am too, love. But I will be by your side until you send me away. I'll not leave you, I promise. Will you stay tonight?”

She nodded again and he resumed rocking in and out of her, but the frenzied pace from earlier was gone. The experience was enhanced by gentle kisses and caresses, and when they came Killian realized they'd been making love. Emma fell asleep shortly after, and in the quiet darkness, he knew he was already too far gone. He loved this woman. He hoped one day in the not too distant future he'd be able to tell her.

 

* * *

 

**IV. The Future**

A few weeks later, Emma walked through the metal detector and entered Caritas, the sight of the patrons still a shock even though she knew what to expect. Killian came to her side and threaded his fingers with hers, smiling at her. He leaned down and kissed her cheek lightly.

“Find us a table, love. I’ll get us some drinks.”

She sat down and looked up at the stage, another demon singing to the crowd, although, thankfully, this one could sing and was giving a somewhat enjoyable performance. She felt a slight smile bloom on her face and she tapped her foot in time with the music.

“Emma!” she heard Lorne call her name as he approached. “I’m so glad to see you again! Are you here to give us another amazing performance?”

“No,” Killian responded as he came up to the table and set down two glasses of rum. “It’s my turn to sing tonight.”

Lorne looked at him quizzically. “Huh. Somehow I am both disappointed and excited at the same time. That’s not something that happens often.”

“It’s only fair,” Emma interjected. “I sang last time, and now I need to hear him sing.”

“I get the feeling his voice is only going to increase his sex appeal,” Lorne said with a smirk.

“I get the feeling you’re right,” Emma replied.

“Well, aren’t we in for another treat. Go sign up for a song, Killy dear. I’ll keep Emma company for a minute.”

Killian smiled and shook his head before he approached the sign up table. Lorne took the seat in front of Killian’s untouched glass of rum. “So how are you doing, my dear?”

“I’m… better,” Emma said. “I’m sorry for running out like I did last time.”

Lorne waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, pumpkin. Won’t be the first or last time someone had that sort of reaction.”

“You know,” Emma began, “I’m curious. If you didn’t see powers in my future, what did you see?”

Lorne opened his mouth to reply, but stopped short. “Let me get back to you on that when loverboy over there starts singing.” He turned his head to look at the stage, where the current occupant was winding down. “Duty calls. I’ll be back to visit you in a while.” He walked up to the stage to resume his emcee duties.

Killian returned a moment later. “And how is our host this evening?”

“As puzzling as before,” Emma replied. “And yet somehow I can’t help but like him.”

“I understand that sentiment.”

“So… what song are you singing?”

“That, love, is a surprise,” he replied, reaching across the table to take her hand in his own.

She smiled at him and enjoyed the simple pleasure of holding his hand. They sipped their drinks and watched the other patrons sing. Before long, it was Killian’s turn to go onstage. He squeezed Emma’s hand in his own before walking to the stage where Lorne was announcing him. Lorne stepped down, but Emma paid no attention to where he went. Her eyes were glued on her boyfriend.

The opening music started, and she immediately recognized the song as one of her favorites. The intro was not long, and when Killian began singing in his soulful, raw tenor, she couldn’t help but feel shivers down her spine.

 

> _Oh, why you look so sad?_  
>  _Tears are in your eyes_  
>  _Come on and come to me now_  
>  _Don't be ashamed to cry_  
>  _Let me see you through_  
>  _'cause I've seen the dark side too_  
>  _When the night falls on you_  
>  _You don't know what to do_  
>  _Nothing you confess_  
>  _Could make me love you less_

She felt tears well up in her eyes as he continued to sing.

“I hope those are tears of joy that you have that man by your side.” Lorne said as he took Killian’s spot.

Emma smiled and wiped the corners of her eyes. “Yea,” she sniffled, “I think they are.” She smiled at Lorne, who looked at her kindly. “So, what did you see? When I sang?”

Lorne leaned back and examined her face with a furrowed brow. “The future is a funny thing. The visions aren’t always clear. A lot of times I just see someone’s possible paths, and which one would lead to the best outcome. I always try and set them on that one. But for you, I only saw one path.” He picked up his drink and took a sip.

“And what was the outcome of that?”

“The same outcome I’m seeing for him now.” Lorne gestured to Killian with his drink before taking another sip and resting it on the table. “This world is filled with a lot of bad, scary things, princess, but for you and him I only see good. The two of you together will never stray from the good path. I know you’ve been hurt before, but trust me when I say that he will never do anything but love and support you. And he deserves that from you as well.”

Emma looked up to the stage again, where Killian was wrapping up his song.

 

> _I'll stand by you_  
>  _Take me in, into your darkest hour_  
>  _And I'll never desert you_  
>  _I'll stand by you_

Seeing him up there. She knew. She loved this man. Meeting him had changed her life for the better, and she couldn’t wait to find out what the future held for them.

“I wouldn’t give him anything less.”


End file.
